Dipping Into Sin 2: Digging Deeper Into Sin Read online

  For a moment, Don Capparelli stared at me with a hint of humor tugging at his thin lips. Shortly after, a baritone laugh escaped from the shallow throttle of his neck. Blinking his eyes repeatedly did nothing to prepare me for the condescending laughter that echoed throughout the room from both my father and Don Capparelli. Cutting my eyes at the man who I called father, I watched as his hearty laughter accompanied the mirthfulness at my inclination.

  “You will marry my daughter,” Don Capparelli managed to squeeze out in between laughing and waving his short arms. Gripping the arm of the chair that I sat in my nails sunk deep into the thick wooden panel. Pieces of wood chipped as the murderous rage surged through me. My father eyed me suspiciously and cleared his throat. Fuck you too motherfucker, I thought as I gave him a deathly stare.

  “We know all about your gallivanting. Now I’m not saying that I wouldn’t have poked the bellezza near (black beauty) myself, but what else did you expect from her?” asked my father who now had his hands clasped together in a prayer form.

  Blacking out, I did not realize that I rocked my father’s jaw until I released the tightness in my balled up fist. Holding onto his jaw, my father looked up at me as blood coated his teeth. Reaching for his gun, he pointed the weapon at me and threatened to shoot me.

  “You better make sure that your bullet hits its mark because if it doesn’t, I will kill you,” I said as I leaned across his desk and pressed my head against the barrel of the gun. Looking at him, I was prepared to get my head blown off by my father.

  “Do it motherfucker!” I shouted. My father’s eyes remained impassionate as he pushed the barrel into my forehead some more.

  “Let us not lose focus on what’s important here Don Balducci. Put the gun away,” Don Capparelli remarked with a sinister smile. Don’t worry motherfucker, we’ll revisit this convo again, I inwardly promised.

  Removing the gun from my forehead, my father sat back down. “If you think about going back to that girl, we will kill her. If you so much as even think about abandoning your duties, we will kill her and her whole family. La Cosa Nostra is your life, and it’s time that you get your priorities in order before we remind you what we’re capable of,” warned my father. The shit that spewed out of his mouth only further infuriated me.

  “You knew this whole time,” I accused after a moment of grinding my anger into my teeth.

  “Is this kid fucking shitting me?” asked Don Capparelli with his short arms stretched out to gesture his disbelief.

  Ignoring his question, my father said, “We have eyes in the sky and ears to the ground. Nothing gets past us. You should know that by now.”

  He was right, and I foolishly thought that I could somehow keep my relationship with Simone a secret. Opening his black folder, Don Capparelli began pulling out pictures of Simone and me stretching back to the last eight months of our relationship. The motherfucker was really having me followed. He pulled out invoices and receipts, which I’m still unsure as to how he became privy of such information. Though, I suspect the only person who knew about our financial records was none other than our accountant, Donald Spillmore. He’s a dead man too, I thought as I added another man to my list of people who I vowed to kill.

  “I will marry Josephine,” I announced after a moment of internal deliberation between my raging heart and my protective instinct. “Only under one condition…you leave Simone and her family alone. Don’t fucking have her followed.”

  “Just as long as you leave her alone,” Don Capparelli spat out.

  “If any harm comes to Simone, I promise that I will personally make it my mission to kill everything that means anything to either of you. That includes family. Fuck with me and you’ll see what happens. If you think that what I did to the Vallenti crew was a bloodbath, you have no idea what I’m truly capable of. I wouldn’t hesitate to kill you and my father with my bare hands. Leave…her…alone,” I warned, enunciating each word. I never spoke to my father or any Don that way before. However, both of these men used my only weakness against me, and I intended to keep her safe even if that meant that I had to part ways from her. They must have known that Simone was worth more alive than dead. Or else they would’ve killed her already. She was the perfect leveraging chip, and they intended to exploit that advantage at this moment in time. I had to forget about her…deny our love…abandon my heart…kill our future.

  “It’s just business. Nothing personal,” Don Capparelli said as he stood up.

  Becoming the Don was the only way to ensure Simone’s safety, even if that meant staying away from her forever. Looking at both my father and Don Capparelli, I nodded my head and complied with the arrangement. This was all personal, and I intended to get even. My father and Don Capparelli were now my enemies, and I intended to avenge this moment…the day that I lost Simone.

  Two days later, I stood before hundreds of guests and dropped down to one knee and proposed to a spurious Josephine gazing into my eyes. Her acting was impeccable, as she appeared to be completely unaware of this “surprise engagement”. Her flawless acting dissipated the moment she hopped into my car. I’ll never forget the same sinister smile that was plastered against her lips. Like father, like daughter.

  “I’m glad that you came to your senses. Things would have gotten real dangerous if you carried on with that whore,” Josephine commented as she strapped her seatbelt across her body. Clenching the wheel tightly, I willed myself not to reach over to Josephine and crush her windpipe.

  Seemingly so, I trusted no one after the engagement party. The inner circle was trimmed down to just Nicolai and myself. Everyone else was either demoted or promoted. Tipping the scale of power, I strategically changed the dynamics of how La Cosa Nostra was traditionally conducted. This was now my fucking empire, and everything began and ended by my word.

  Snapping out of my deep thought, I looked down at my buzzing phone and saw Josephine’s number appear on the screen. Ignoring her call, I rested my head against the headrest. One thing was for sure; I needed to find out who wacked Don Capparelli before more dismembered bodies turned up.

  Chapter Twenty- Four

  Josephine

  “Who would kill my parents?” I entreated, as my friend Angela handed me a tissue. Dabbing my eyes, I looked back at the yellow crime scene tape that boldly read ‘DO NOT CROSS’. As we sat in the second row of the truck, I instructed my driver to park across the street from my parent’s house. Reporters flooded the front of the house with cameras and microphones. Those pesky vermin squalled the scene like flies to shit.

  Taking my parent’s bodies away from the horrific crime scene, I watched as the two coroner vans drove away with my parents and the guards. Four bodies were whisked away as reporters jogged towards the moving vans—hoping to get some information and pictures. Shaking my head in disgust, I attempted to call Andriano again. Where is he? I thought, as my call was sent to voicemail again.

  “Andriano is going to make this right,” Theresa, my sister, assured as she blew her nose. Rubbing her fingers under her eyes, she inhaled a deep breath and exhaled before saying, “He’ll make those animals pay.”

  “There goes Andriano right there,” Angela pointed out to Andriano, Nicolai, and Vincenzo marching past the news reporters. After whispering something to the police officer guarding the entrance to my parent’s home, the young cop lifted the yellow tape and allowed Nicolai and Andriano to enter the scene.

  This morning, when I turned on my phone, a series of text messages flooded my inbox. Clicking on Vincenzo’s text, he told me not to read the newspapers or watch the news before I called him. In my father and husband’s line of business, I was used to rookie officers and young, ambitious politicians attempting to bring our empire down. The last time that my father was arrested was when I was nineteen years old, and the newly elected New York City Mayor was trying to flex his power. That morning my father, Andriano’s father, and a few other Dons were arrested. They strutted out of their homes like triumphing kings,
as each gave the media outlets a camera-ready smile. The Mayor had no idea just which dragon he poked because a few hours later our kings made it home just in time to eat dinner with the family. Two days later our dear sweet Mayor and his family turned up missing. We still don’t know whether they are in the bottom of the ocean or became dog food, I thought as a smirk tugged at my lips.

  This morning was different; however, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to these text messages. Throwing my robe on, I walked out of my bedroom and walked into the kitchen. After settling down with my coffee, I heard the persistent and urgency in the combination of knocking and ringing of the doorbell.

  “Maria can you get the door?” I called out to my maid with great agitation at the sound of the doorbell.

  Listening closely, I heard the loud domineering steps entering the kitchen. Spinning around, my eyes clashed with Vincenzo’s hazel eyes.

  “Baby, what are you doing here?” I asked as his arms wrapped around me. Rising up on my tippy-toes, our lips grazed each other, and I gave him the most hungry kiss that I’ve ever given anyone…including my husband. For the past two days, I craved his touch. The last time that we had mind blowing sex was over a week ago at the Four Seasons.

  “Jo-Jo-Josephine,” he muffled out as my hands grabbed his belt buckle. Wrapping his fingers around my hands, I stilled my movement and noticed his serious expression.

  “What’s wrong?” I queried, as I released my hands from his belt buckle.

  Taking a step back, Vincenzo’s hands dropped to his sides. “Your parents,” he uttered.

  “My parents?” I questioned

  “Josephine…they’re dead,” he muttered out.

  ~****~

  Andriano

  Staten Island, New York

  Seeing Detective Moreno and Detective Scanti at the murder scene, I made eye contact with them so that they could clear the room. Standing in the foyer of the Capparelli mansion, we watched as the last of the officers walked out of the front door.

  Turning to each of the detectives, I asked, “What do you guys have for me?” A shadow of irritation masked my face as I impatiently walked back and forth. Today was supposed to be the day that I confronted Simone at her house. After the encounter with her grandmother, I understood why she was completely protective over her granddaughter. But, not even her grandmother could keep me away from her, and I intended to prove that today. Instead, I had to fly back to this shithole and deal with a motherfucker that I planned on killing myself.

  Today was supposed to be the day that I officially reclaimed my woman, even if that meant that I had to sleep outside her doorstep. I would beg for another chance if I had to, but I refused to walk away from her. I loved her more than I craved my next breath and this time I needed to prove to her just how much we were meant to be together.

  However, that all changed the moment Nicolai notified me about La Cosa Nostra business. While at the airport, I made arrangements with the florists to delay the original order. Instead, I placed another order for them to deliver the roses to her house and attach a handwritten letter with a personal message…a message that I spoke fluently from my heart. After ending the call, I made a conference call between my attorney and the real estate agent.

  Clearing his throat, Detective Moreno asked, “Did you hear me, Mr. Balducci?” Each man watched me closely, as if searching for any hint of a reaction towards the death of my in-laws. “What the fuck are you all looking at?” I asked heatedly. “Carry on with this shit,” I demanded.

  “From what we can gather, so far, the perpetrator must have planned out this crime because the cameras were deactivated during the span of the killing. The two guards at the Capparelli’s were each assassinated with one single shot to the head,” replied Detective Moreno as he slipped the latex gloves off of his hands.

  “Our forensic team just left and the ballistics report will be ready in the morning. My bet is, Capparelli knew the killer because none of his guys pulled out their guns,” Detective Scanti chimed in with a low whisper, as he pulled out pictures from the crime scene.

  “Do you think that there was more than one?” Nicolai asked.

  “One maybe two people could have committed the murders. It was a clean sweep through. Capparelli didn’t even have a chance to reach for his piece that was under his desk,” Detective Morano replied.

  Looking at the picture of Donna Capparelli, she clearly appeared to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Her eyes remained open in horror as she took her last breath. She was the only person, other than the Don Capparelli’s, to have multiple gunshot wounds all over her body. Her body was in a sitting position against Don Capparelli’s office entryway door. Donna’s porcelain skin had little spots of blood spatter across her face.

  “How many times was she shot?” I asked. Her white bathrobe appeared to have a splash of red paint smeared across her chest and stomach. Whoever did this had no respect for the code that we lived by…women and children of made men were not touched.

  “She was shot five times, based on the gunshot holes on the door. But forensics will confirm the actual number of gunshot wounds when they complete the autopsy.”

  Flipping to the next picture, I looked at a dismembered Don Capparelli. He had a bullet hole embedded deep in the center of his forehead.

  “His index finger from his right hand, his tongue, and his right ear were cut off,” answered Detective Scanti.

  “Fuck, this is bad,” Vincenzo cursed under his breath as he raked his fingers through his hair after learning about the gruesomeness.

  Nicolai and I exchanged glances, as we both knew that this hit was personal. The cutting of the tongue symbolized that Don Capparelli would never be able to make another order. The cutting of his right ear meant that whoever permitted the hit intended on mocking Don Capparelli with the laugh of insult. Lastly, cutting off the right index finger of the Don was the greatest insult that could be given to a made man. It was the ring that all others beneath made men kissed as a sign of respect. Whoever committed this murder was clearly making a statement, and we all were listening.

  It had to be someone who knew him. Looking down at the pictures and then around his house, there was clearly no forced entry. From the guard at the gate to the soldiers in the home, all of the assassinations were within close range. They knew their killer…

  Stepping away from them, I walked into the kitchen and pulled out my cell phone. Stopping at Lucas’ name, I pressed dial.

  “Hello?”

  I immediately told him. “Meet me at my loft at 6:00.”

  I heard him say, “Okay,” just as I hung up.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Simone

  “Hey,” I greeted my mother with a puzzled stare as I shut my bedroom door. She was sitting at the edge of my bed. “Is everything all right?”

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on between you two?” My mother asked without hesitation. Walking towards the dresser, I tried to come up with the right words but remained silent.

  “Simone, talk to me,” she said helplessly. “You never just talk to me.” Looking at her distressed facial expression, I felt a twinge of guilt. But, in truth, how could I really talk to her without mentioning our major blockage, Henry. He’s a deleterious brute who continued to damage our relationship over the years.

  “Mom, there is nothing to talk about.”

  Shaking her head, my mother continued to stare at me with disbelief. “You’re not fooling me, Simone. I see the way he looks at you. I see the way he looks at his daughters. That man clearly loves you and the girls. I see how he interacts with them. I see how he goes out of his way to make all three of them happy. And yet, you ignore him. Why?”

  “Mom,” I said as I turned to face her. “Andriano was not supposed to find out about my daughters. And now that he knows about them, he’s not going to just go away.”

  “For five years, you kept the girls a secret from him? Simone, how could you do th
at?” she asked as she stared at me with disbelief.

  “Excuse me?” I all but shouted. “You are in no position to judge me. I did what I had to do to protect my daughters.”

  “Protect them from what? Their father worships the ground that they walk on.”

  Feeling tense, I did not feel like I had to validate my reasons for keeping the girls away. But, my mother only repeated the question.

  “He’s in the mafia,” I shouted.

  An awkward silence filled the room before I finally broke the silence. “He wanted me to have an abortion. And I was going to go through with it.

  Sitting beside her, I continued, “But when I heard their heartbeats, I knew that I couldn’t go through with it. I couldn’t kill my babies. So, I made the only decision that would guarantee the safety of my daughters…I left New York. I was determined to raise my children on my own.”

  Looking over at my mother, I watched as she wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. “Simone, I’m sorry. You needed me, and I was nowhere to be found.”

  “But, you’re here now. With Grandma sick, I don’t know how I would have gotten through all of this by myself,” I said as I reached for her hand. “I’m just happy that you’re here.”

  Wrapping her arms around me, my mother pulled me into a hug and said, “Me too.” Releasing each other, I proceeded to tell my mother everything that transpired between Andriano and me five years ago. As she held my hand, I felt connected to her in a way that I never felt before. The absence of my grandmother left a void in my heart. Somehow, my mother filled that emptiness just by being my outlet.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “Run.”

  ~****~